


Heiligabend

by Trabi



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Found Family, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-13 00:28:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16882179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trabi/pseuds/Trabi
Summary: Gaby won't be spending Christmas Eve alone.





	Heiligabend

**Author's Note:**

> I was writing for the winter holiday exchange when this fluff happened. It doesn't exactly fit in with my giftee's requests though, so I am just publishing it as a normal work.
> 
> Heiligabend is German for Christmas Eve.

Gaby hadn't exactly lied when she said she wasn't doing anything for Christmas. The looming holiday was the main topic of water cooler talk at HQ for at least a month and each time someone tentatively asked her how she would be spending it she would offer the same response; at home, nothing special. 

Everyone knew she had no family living and as other staff members left headquarters to catch flights and trains destined for places far and wide they would stop by her office to wish her a Happy Christmas, with a pitying look or maybe even a half-hearted invitation for her to come along to Twickenham or Luton or wherever. She, of course, would politely decline. 

Unsurprisingly, an invitation to New York was not on the table. 

"You know if it was just me I would fly you over in a heartbeat?" Napoleon apologized -unprompted and unnecessarily- the day before he was due to leave for New York. 

"I didn't ask," Gaby smiled sourly. "Anyway, I'm not sure your sister or her husband would appreciate hosting an East German on the holiest and capitalistic of holidays."

"There's that," Napoleon admitted, "but there would also be...assumptions."

"Ohh," Gaby cooed, "assumptions like how I may show up next Christmas with a ring on my finger?"

Napoleon rolled his eyes as she perched on his desk like a flirtatious secretary. "Something like that."

"And the Christmas after that with a big round belly?" she teased. 

"That," Napoleon said pointedly, "would be a Christmas miracle." He slowly pushed her off his desk. "Whimsical, fantastical, and completely removed from reality."

Gaby laughed and, despite not actually wanting to go to New York, she would miss Napoleon over the holidays. 

She would spend Christmas exactly as she had told everyone she would; at home, not doing anything special in particular. She had only omitted the truth a bit when it came to who she would be spending the holiday with. 

Everyone had assumed Gaby Teller would be alone, just as they had assumed Illya Kuryakin would mysteriously disappear into a gust of snowy eastern wind as soon as HQ closed shop. What they did not predict was that Illya would stay put in London and sleuth down quiet streets, unnoticed, to spend Heiligabend at her flat.

It was pleasant, even if the christstollen had been a disaster. The kitchen still smelled like smoke, but the tree had turned out nicely, even if it was the last one for sale and a bit scraggly. Gaby watched the hypnotic draw of the tree's bubble lights illuminating her darkened sitting room while they listened to the radio playing the same seasonal tunes on loop. Illya's hand slowly traveled up and down her back. It, and the occasional poorly tuned hum that rumbled from the chest below her cheek, were the only hints that he was still awake.

They may not have any family and they may not be doing anything for Christmas, but they certainly weren't spending it alone. It was near perfect, if only she had a drink. 

The doorbell rang and Illya jolted beneath her. She lifted herself off him and urged him back down when he made to get up.

"I'll get it," she sighed. "It's probably just the landlady. She must think I'm crying alone in a corner up here."

Gaby walked down the narrow entrance hallway to her front door and spied through the peephole. She gasped when she saw who was on the other side. "What are you doing here?!" she asked when she flung the door open to reveal Napoleon Solo, inexplicably on her doorstep and laden with shopping bags. "You're supposed to be in New York!"

"I am and I was," he admitted. 

"Then why did you come back so soon?"

He shrugged as though materializing on another continent were no great feat. "Well, yesterday I was on the Hudson line to my sister's place in Ossining when I realized I don't actually _like_ my family."

Gaby's brows shot up in amusement as Napoleon went on with a tone of unapologetic consideration. 

"My sister and I were never close and her husband is all hat and no cattle," he shook his head, "and their kids are just...ungrateful brats."

Gaby burst out laughing at his candidness. 

"And I just thought, shouldn't this be the time of year I spend with people I actually enjoy being around?"

"You enjoy time with us?" Illya asked as he came up behind Gaby, his tone pleased and teasing. "You are going soft Cowboy."

Napoleon smiled, unsurprised to find Illya at Gaby's flat. "More than my own family," Napoleon admitted, then added, "which isn't saying much. So don't flatter yourselves." 

Gaby rolled her eyes and Napoleon rewarded her with another smile. "Happy Christmas, by the way. Aren't you going to invite me in?"

"Depends," Gaby said, considering. "What's in the bags?"

"Well, I don't want to ruin the surprise," he said with mock sincerity. "Gifts...and brandy, of course."

Gaby exchanged a look with Illya. "I suppose we could let you join us," she said. "I was just thinking I'd like a drink."

**Author's Note:**

> Christstollen is a traditional German fruitcake made during the holidays.


End file.
